Midsummer Ball
by woundedowl
Summary: All of Britannia is attending the annual Midsummer event at Lioness castle, and while the people celebrate and the night moves on, it becomes clear it will be a night of firsts and of passions for many.
1. The Fairy Waltz

A/N: Alright everyone, a word of warning. This is a lemon, and every chapter afterward will be a lemon as well. I'm practicing my romance and lemon skill, Kind of like how I'm also practicing my ability to scream and hide in a ditch after posting these stories. Now I'm being serious, each chapter is going to be full of mature content that is M, VERY M, so be ready to feast your eyes on... _things._

Chapter One: The Fairy Waltz

* * *

Diane was at a ball. A real life, nobles and kings and princess and princes, and dancing, _ball_.

Her hair was up in two wonderfully amazing golden ribbons, her hair curled around a nice and wonderful hair ornament. And her _dress_ , it spread out around her hips, the golden and orange fabric spinning and swirling around her, and this most likely was the most wonderful dress she'd ever worn.

She'd already squealed many times tonight, even before they had arrived, and Elizabeth had laughed along with Elaine and Jericho had whooped as they arrived, and they had joined her when they spun around the dance floor. So far she hadn't been ask to dance by anyone, apparently, there were some sort of rules where the nobility had to go first and everyone else follows. Bah! Well, whatever, so she was now standing by the long table that was filled with more food than she could imagine, spanning an entire wall, sipping pleasantly on a cold glass of the finest ale, ever.

 _This night was wonderful._ She sighed, staring off into the crowd, before she giggled into the brim of her glass. _And King had told her to be careful?_ She took a long sip, rolling her eyes.

"You're having a wonderful time, I hope?"

Daine turned, finding a tall man with brown hair swept to the side, dark grey eyes and his fancy green suit having gold medals and a large collar grabbing all the attention. In her personal opinion the royal suit was kind of silly, he even had this weird hat on, but his smile wasn't too bad. He reached over, still keeping eye contact as he grabbed a crystal glass cup, before pouring a red liquid from another bottle into it. "Pretty good, huh?" he motioned to her cup of ale in her own hands.

"Yep!" she chirped, "It's the best I've had!" He laughed, holding up the glass towards her, the crystal glowing in the light as the red liquid stained it beautifully, and it caught her attention thoroughly. "Try this, I swear it will be better."

Diane grabbed one of her pigtails to twirls in her hand, suddenly recognizing that this was the _first_ man to approach her tonight, hiding the side of her face in it, and she put down her glass and thanked him, taking a small sip of the strange liquid he presented her.

The liquid went down her throat smoothly, only a tiny burn as it settled in her chest, but the taste! It was sweetest and most bitter drink, and somehow it was even a bit _dry_. "Wow!" She brought it up to take a longer sip, enjoying it before she licked her lips, "That's- that's amazing! What is this?"

"Wine from a providence over the ocean. They call themselves the Franks. It's wonderful isn't it?" He leaned his hip on the table, smirking roguishly at her as he put a hand on his waist, a few fingers hidden in his pocket. "My name is Prince Kent Garde a la Forest-Landerneau, fifth son of King Bamburgh Garde a la Forest-Landerneau. It's my pleasure My Lady…"

"Diane," she grinned at him as she downed the rest of her drink, moaning softly, and missed his raised eyebrow, "Just Diane. It's gotta be a hassle, having to say all that everytime you say hello." He gave out another soft chuckle that did not reach his eyes as he filled her glass again.

It wasn't long between talking about the party and the castle, somehow getting into more pressing things. The two of them started conversing about more private adventures, like her wish to try so many new things, many that the Sins would surely laugh at, and Prince Kent went on about his need to spend his nights watching the night sky. As Diane twirled her hair in her finger, she barely noticed how her her arms and toes, even her nose suddenly started to tingle terribly.

The room tilted strangely as she tried to take a step, suddenly her balance not very impressive at all, and an arm looped around her to settle on her waist, before tugging her slightly. She blinked. The wine glass was pulled from her loose fingers as Diane's eyes glazed over, and as she looked down at the hand on her wrist, Prince Kent kept smiling, though his face… his face was far closer than he was before. She took another few steps.

What the heck was going on? What could have made her _this drunk_ , so fast, she knew she hadn't chugged an entire bottle. What was wine _made out of?_

"What should we do?" Prince Kent asked, humming theatrically as he squeezed her waist, "Diane, the night is still young." He brought her hand up to his lips, kissing it far more passionately than before, and Diane's eyes zeroed in on his mouth as she felt a wet, hot tongue slide against her knuckles. She went to pull it away, but it's then that she noticed just how heavy her body is, her mind raced as her free hand turned into a fist.

"Let go," she went to cry out as she felt the hand around her hip squeeze, the situation turning far too strange for too fast, but her body instantly relaxed against her will, the words more slurred as he laughed. "Having some trouble? It's alright, I'll take care of-"

"She said _let go_."

Her eyes adjusted while she looked up, searching for the voice as she blinked, mumbling out a soft, "King?" as she stared. He was there, floating above their heads as normal, but, instead of his normal fretting-king like behavior there was a bored, superior glance focused in on the man next to her. He hovered a few feet above them, one brow raised as he kept his hand lazily held at his sides.

"Hey now." Meliodas spoke up, popping around the back of Diane's dress, and she jumped, spinning around to see him. Which almost sends to the floor, her legs acting ridiculous as they wobbled to and fro, and she squawks.

Diane pouted, not getting it. "Captain!" she slurred as Elizabeth showed up next to Ban, suddenly just appearing in Diane's mind as she shook her head, before she pointed at her cup, "You- you've gotta try this stuff. It's-"

"Drugged," King finished blandly, his narrow eyes almost burning holes into the Prince's head, and the man leaned away, a sudden sweat starting on his brow. Daine looked up at the fairy, tilting her head as the word processed _extremely_ slowly, before she gasped loudly.

"D-drugged!" she yelled, finally, somewhat in control of her body, mostly, and she spun around to look at Kent, who was backing away with a shaking, fake smile, his hand back in his pocket as he tries to save face. Elizabeth frets next to her as Ban whistles. "You- you _you drugged me!"_ she shrieked, finally alerting the rest of the room as people turn to stare, and Ban giggled like mad.

"Shit! Do you have a giant pair," Ban cackled, slapping a hand on his knee as Meliodas walked up, picking up the bottle the prince had placed down and sniffed it. "Yep. There's something in there alright." Meliodas nodded, and then held the glass up to the light, humming and tsking while Diane entire face flushed, mortified.

"You- you-!" She took a deep breath before lifting her chin, smoothing down the emotions on her face as well as the hem of her skirt, and she turned on her heel, her dress swishing around as she booked it out of there. Not in a straight line, but at least she was running.

"Diane wait!" Elizabeth cried, "Diane!" The princess reached out towards the miniature giant, but she was already racing out of the room, flushing even more until the top of her head felt as if it were smoking, as everyone turned to whisper, the noble women talking behind their fans. She lifted up her layered skirt and ran faster.

She pushed open another pair of doors, uncaring of the guards that jumped out of the way as the large structures bounced against the walls with a crash, and as she made her way through the castle as nobles and servants and knights alike saw her murderous look and parted for her.

 _That- that bastard!_ Trying to pull something like that on her, well she would show him. The minute she was back to her tall self that little shit wouldn't know what hit him! How dare he! That- that-!

When Diane was finally done running and tripping all over the place, after a few more minutes, she came to a stop, huffing outside of the castle. Clearly she was in a place she had never been to before, and, with her luck, she was on the other side of the damn courtyard! She looked around the huge garden that had giant sculpture filled fountains everywhere, rose bushes and other flowers, and she stumbled down one of the cobble stoned paths, cursing under her breath.

She finally flopped down, on the side of the path between two large hedges, glaring out into the dark night sky as she tried to calm down. And as the minutes ticked by her breathing finally slowed, and the utter devastating embarrassment that had colored her cheeks faded.

 _Something like this always happens._ Diane scowled into her arms as she thought, bringing her knees up to her chin as she glared out at the flowered bush from where she sat. She was uncaring now if her dress got dirty. What did it matter, at this point? _Couldn't she just be small and normal, for a night?_

"Why did he have to do that," she grumbled as she picked up a stone, chucking it somewhere, "Stupid asshole. I should have squashed him."

"The cleaning staff wouldn't have been happy." King's voice sounded just above her and she flinched, slowly, and begrudgingly looked upwards to see that, yes, he had found her.

She tried not to stare at him again like before, not wanting to be embarrassed anymore tonight, but that didn't mean she couldn't deny and point out how much of an allure his new well tailored dark dress robes had on him, and she kept her eyes from dragging her gaze back across them.

Diane huffed dramatically and said, "I'm not going back."

"That's good. Cause I'm not either." he answered with a shrug, floating closer as he dipped his head, "I hoped that I could walk a Lady home tonight, if I could?" He smiled at her and Diane's stomach churned, an almost quaking strange feeling threading across her skin as she looked away. "I'm no Lady." She saw his body stiffen perceptibly in the corner of her eye, before he held out a hand for her to grab.

"Do I have to?" she whined, tugging on the hem of her skirt as she threw another pebble, pouting. She looked back at the castle, full of people and every window lit and even all the way out here, she could hear them celebrating. He laughed gently, not at all patronizing as she looked at him. "You'll feel better if you did. You'll probably experience your first hangover in the morning." He did not move his hand, and she finally huffed before taking it. "The downside of being small I guess." He laughed, and she mumbled a quick thank you, only stumbling a little as she got up. Not so _much_ with his help, and he helped her make their way down the quiet stone pathway.

They went through a vibrant garden towards the back courtyard, the moon bouncing off the many different flowers, making the many fountains they pass glisten with silver light, and they walked in a comfortable slow pace. She was still stumbling, very often, King using his arm looped around her own to keep her straight as she blinked multiple times, trying to rid herself of her double vision. "This never happened before." she mumbled, as her mind sifted through all the reasons a man would use _drugs_ to take a woman to bed in mortification, and King watched her feet for her as he shook his head quickly.

"This isn't your fault." His eyebrow developed a tick in it. "You couldn't have known that man would put something into your drink. And for him to do that, to you Diane, and surrounded by everyone thinking he was exempt from rules, he's not going to get away with it." Thinking back to the lowly _prestige inbred twat_ made King want to go find him, and really, most likely he wouldn't get into too much trouble, had he enacted some Fairy Justice. The man would not be so quick next time to attack someone, if he didn't have arms.

"But…" she mumbled, before her foot caught on a rock and she yelped, crashing forward with a yell. She put her hands out to brace herself, horrified at the thought she might take Harlequin down with her. But, then she was suddenly not on the ground. The world swooned in a quick movement, so quick she had to blink it off as she pushed up with her hands.

She found herself sitting on a large green pillow, her dress puffed out around her as she hovered up a dozen feet in the air, and no quicker could her hampered mind process this than were they soaring over the garden. She opened her mouth to say something as he floated next to her, his hands clasped behind his back, but her mouth snapped shut as she took another look.

His eyes were focused forward on the Boar's Hat over the distance, and he didn't look very different from how he always did. Of course his clothing was very different, but…But…

Her cheeks flushed brighter as her eyes traveled down the side of his face taking in his jawline and Adam's apple, to his shoulders and arms. Suddenly, it seemed like he is the King she has always known, while at the same time someone she barely knew, who had barely scratched the surface. A shiver went down her spine as her mind flashed back to how he had towered over a man twice his size, how stern and _noble_ he had appeared as he controlled the entire situation. Meliodas and the others followed his lead.

A shiver went down her back, making her clench her skirt in tight fists.

"Are you cold?" she looked over at his question, and his brows scrunched up as she rapidly shook her head side to side. "I'm alright! Stop worrying so much." She laughed weakly, not at all convincing as King raised a brow. But she just looked down and played with a stitch in his pillow as they made the rest of the way back to the bar.

When they touched down outside of the dark tavern she hopped off his pillow, his arm around her waist immediately as he walked her up the stairs to the door, and he did not make her feel embarrassed as he helped her up to the second story bedroom. She blushed at his gentle and polite handling as helped her into the room, and when she saw the bed, she cheered.

"Tired?" he laughed as Diane flopped face first onto her bed, giggling, and she shook her head rapidly. "Nope!" she chirped with a wide grin and rolled over, before she pulled her bows out of her hair. She was a giggling mess as the world tilted and spun, before laughing louder as she leaned to the side a little and shook her hair free. He chuckled as he undid his cuffs, his feet on the floor for once as she threw her heels into the corner. He was happy to see she was getting back to her old self, and as he went to turn to leave, ready to make his way to his own room, was interrupted as his hand rested against the doorknob. "Hey? Where are you going?"

He turned to see her flopped back down on her side, confused at him, "To get pajamas and go to bed." he answered, but she frowned at that. "Well, it's gonna be a while you know," she hummed, bringing a leg up to wiggle her toes in the air, "Captain said Elizabeth would be staying with him in the castle." And then she leapt up from the bed, a happy bounce to her step, but he frowned, not understanding.

Then his mind screeched to a halt, his mouth falling open as she _sauntered_ towards him, a small smile on her lips. Suddenly the room was far too silent, and far too close for King's liking as his throat went dry, his heart leaping into his throat and pounding in his ears. And a very calculated gleam came to her violet eyes as she walked closer still. King's insides did a little twist.

"King…" she whispered quietly, pressing a hand to the side of his face, and his eyes snapped up to look at her own. "Can you… can you help me?" She slowly, agonizingly slowly, placed her other hand over his beating heart as he nodded, numbly. His eyes moved over her red tinted lips from the wine, along her jaw and down the slope of her dress, over her creamy skin and across her collarbone, and she murmured his name again before he looked back at her eyes, still cloudy from the wine, "Can- can you untie the back of my dress? I can't reach it." Her voice was unusually soft as she asked, shy as she turned around, pulling her hair to one side to show him her back, and she bit her bottom lip.

He swallowed, seeing how her blush reddened her skin, even how she took a small breath anxiously " _R-right._ Oh, is that all?" He brought shaking fingers up to undo the knot and loosen the strings, Diane making a low satisfied noise in the back of her throat as the clothes give way, and King closed his eyes tightly.

"I'm not sure." She turned around as he finally opened his eyes, and _God, he hopes she knows what she looked right now._ He took a hesitant step backwards, trying to chuckle nervously before he bumped into the door, and he looked back at the wooden frame, gulping. "King?"

He looked back towards her as she leaned forward, a hand coming up to tentatively grab his arm. "Can I… can you," she stumbled over her words as she leaned in, their faces only inches apart, his eyes looking straight into her. He dipped his gaze again to her lips, and almost like she can understand what he was thinking, she whispered, "Can you kiss me?"

"Diane," King asked quietly, "It- it's not that I wouldn't, given the chance-" With a groan, he relinquished his gaze from her, and he sighed. "Diane," he tried to say again, reaching up to gently grab her hand and pull it from his shirt, but she bristled quickly. "You aren't- you aren't able to think clearly right now-"

"Stop that!" she hollered, and she leaned back just enough to glare down at him with flushed cheeks, her hands moving to a tightening hold on his collar with a growl as he jumped, already having to float a couple inches off the ground so she wouldn't choke him. "D-Diane!" he yelped as she pulled him tightly against her, eye to eye.

"You listen here you Fairy King! I'm not some child anymore! I am not!" Her hiss of frustration puffed against his face as he gawked at her, and she poked him in the chest, hard. "If I say I want you isn't that _my_ decision Harlequin? You can't keep always saying you understand, saying things like you did back there with that prince, and saying you're here for me to stay, but in the end you keep pretending like I don't have a clue about-"

He doesn't let her finish what she was going to say, instead launching himself across the little distance that separated them and grabbing the back of her head, angling her head into a crushing kiss.

He slowly backed her up, his lips feathering kisses across the corner of her mouth as she took unsteady steps towards the bed, and he pulled away for a moment, before diving back in as he pulled her corset out of the way. King shivered as her dress finally fell away, the layers of gold and orange clothing swept into a pile at her feet, and he could barely comprehend, still, that she was letting him grab her up and deposit her halfway across the bed and the other half onto his green pillow, that this was happening, even as Diane wiggled her hips and the rest of out of her undergarments. He looped his fingers into her underwear without breaking eye contact, hiking her hips up as he sucked on her lower lip, and she murmured his name.

"Di-Diane." he whispered huskily, surprising her with the sound as his gold eyes glowed softly in the dark, making her blink her own, and she tugged on his own dress shirt as he took another kiss. Her body was ablaze as he brushed his lips against hers, and she groaned and arched up, wantonly displaying her need for him. The flushed hue of her cheeks were partly still from the alcohol, but the _lust in her eyes._ Her body started to shake, her breaths coming in short gasps as his tongue slid across the seams of hers, and she whimpered at the feeling, her body giving an involuntary shiver.

Fuck, did she understand what she was doing to him? So many years, so many nights simply thinking and she was here, palatable in his hands? He was somewhat too desperate as he yanked her underwear over her ankles and off her feet, and as he leaned down to kiss her harder he grabbed one of her thighs, throwing it around his waist, pressing himself tightly to her naked form.

"Harle- _quin_!" she squeaked, completely unprepared for the feeling of someone touching her down _there_ , and to say she jerked back was an understatement. Flinching from him to lay more on his pillow, her butt jumped off the linens for a moment, and she looked down, wide eyed, at his left hand that was resting against her inner thigh.

"Oh, uh…" He froze, just as wide eyed and flushed as her. They both stared at one another in a tense silence. The sounds of the party still going on could be heard outside, the lights of the castle making their way inside the study, but their room was full of only heavy breathing, "Can- can I- I mean-" he stumbled, his ears on fire as she blushed, so heavily it went down her neck and burned her shoulders…. Until she nervously rested her forehead on his shoulders, and shyly nodded.

He let out a strangled moan, before sucking in a quick breath, slowly sliding his thumb around her, never pushing into her folds, but he could still feel how wet she is for him, how damnably hot she was. "Diane…" He closed his eyes and shuttered, using two fingers to part her before he could stop himself, and he looked down and gulps. He knew it was a losing battle as she squeaked again, her hands tightening on his upper arms as he started moving _up and down up and down_.

Their lips brushed together lightly, experimenting until they're both moaning, and his mouth slanted over hers, deepening the contact as his tongue delved greedily. He licked into her mouth and then boldly sucked on her tongue, eliciting a primal groan from Diane, the sound reverberating through her chest and up his throat. Coating his fingers and teasing her where he got the most reaction, one of his hands moved up to her breasts to start rolling a nipple between his fingers, making her cry out. He didn't relinquish contact with her mouth as he spread her legs further apart, lifting one thigh to rest over his shoulder, and before he could think of the ten thousand reasons or so why he should probably slow down and _think_ , he slipped his thumb up to find and rub roughly against that one little nub.

Diane couldn't get enough air as she gripped him tightly, and she shuddered, her skin prickling from where he continued to rub the sensitive flesh. Her head went lightweight, her world shrinking down to nothing else but the feeling of his circular repetitions, and she gulped audibly for air as he pressed down. " _Ahhh..._ " Her body moving to his will, he stroked and rubbed something so intimate she was grinding against his hand. Her legs twitched as a pulsing sensation started between her thighs. Her hands moved to press her palms flat against his belly, the tips of her fingers sliding over his clothes in a mindless dance as her hips shook, a long drawn out whine passing through her throat, "Harlequin… we…"

She cried out again, but King swallowed her words with his hot mouth, pressing against her as she slid her hands up to his shoulders, across his arms, over his neck and down his back; massaging the corded muscles there as he continued to rub, and Diane nearly fainted at the intense feelings tumbling throughout her body.

And then he slipped a finger inside of her.

"OH oh!" She all but arched her entire body and pressed herself against his hand, and he watched opened mouth at how her chest puffed up and down quickly, her breasts jerking and jiggling, and her nails dug into his shirt before grabbing desperately at his Chastiefol, which curled around her at his will. He used his weight and her leg tossed over his shoulder to keep her where he wants, and she gasped loudly as streaks of pleasure shot through her body, as he goes in and out while still flicking and circling his thumb over the sensitive tip again. "King!" Her short breaths quickened before he quirked his finger upwards, and her breath hitched.

She kept her eyes squeezed shut as he pulled his finger out slowly, swirling his thumb in agonizingly pleasurable curls, a feeling she couldn't describe as her inner muscles _clenched_ at how suddenly empty she was, before he drew out the motion as long as he could, all but dragging two fingers back in at once this time, gently stretching her open more. Her hips jerked helplessly, and her hand flew up to her mouth to bite down on a the knuckle of one of her fingers.

"That's it…" King rasped, watching as her stomach muscles tense, "Oh gods, Diane. That's it, just- just let me... " He quickened the pace, a harder but constant thrust that has her panting and murmuring and _whimpering_ his name, and he pressed down and curled his fingers, his thumb rubbing quickly over her pulsing and blood swollen clitoris, and he was opening her up with three fingers now. The wet sound of skin slapping went faster still as he started to grunt with the tempo, "Let me…" and he groaned louder, biting the side of his cheek as her eyes glazed over, her chest heaving, and his gazed over her body with an intense look, sucking in a quick breath as anticipation built up inside him.

Diane' head tilted back as her mouth fell open, her vision turning dark as pleasure coursed through her at such an intensity; a hand clawed at the back of King's head mindlessly as he moved his wrists a bit more, turning her world into a red blistering wave of skin searing life-

 _"King please,"_ she begged, gasping helplessly as she placed a hand on his moving arm, her fingers digging into his skin. He leaned forward to brush his lips over hers, her entire body shaking, jerking with abandon, and her eyes barely slit open as her head flew back. _"Ahhh!"_ she screamed, bucking her hips as he slid his fingers further inside until he hit her so deep and quick she was spreading her legs as far she could, her lower regions completely soaked, liquid spilling. His lips sucked greedily on her nipples, tugging on them and making her writhe, and as her gasps got shorter and shorter, all of her muscles in her stomach tightened. He stroked her saturated folds as air caught in her lungs, the pleasure mounted as he lifted his head to stare down at her, his eyes wide and appreciating as she climbed, reaching for something… until finally-

Diane's world exploded, colors erupting in front of her eyes and it felt as if her body shattered into a million peices, waves of spasms tumbling through her body so intensely that she shook with the effort. Crying out incoherent words while her hips lifted time and time again off the bed, her hands went everywhere, stroking his back and sides, reaching as far as she could and then firmly grasping his taut shoulders as garbled words and sounds tumbled up from her mouth.

He groaned huskily, arching his neck as she clawed the skin of his back, slowly pumping a few more times to prolong her high, every stroke he made easing out another moan or incoherent sound, before he finally moved his hand back. Diane gasps once more, her entire body falling limp as King looked down at his fingers, lust boiling at the surface as she panted between his legs, and he lifted the hand to his mouth, sucking the digits clean.

"Diane," King looked down, chuckling weakly, but her eyes were closed, her entire face flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat with her hair sticking to the sides of her face, but, she's relaxed. And he can tell, she wasn't going to wake up again tonight. He groans softly deep in his throat, "If you regret this in the morning…" His head indicated to the throbbing hard on that was tenting inside of his thigh, and then, with a pained chuckle, he rolled away to the side of the bed, his head flopping down on a pillow with a grunt. His gut was still twisted and pulled painfully as he adjusted again, wiggling in his pants, the steady warmth of her body next to him helping him calm down, even just a little, and the heat traveling through his veins almost _hurt_ , as he flung the blankets over them.


	2. Elizabeth's Variation

Elizabeth had a plan.

She sipped her second glass of wine, already feeling the full effects of the first, her mind an exciting and enticing mixture of numbness and electricity. She stood with Diane and Margaret, not listening to their silly conversation. Instead, she was watching Meliodas.

He was standing a bit away, having another drink, laughing at something Howzer had said. She sipped the wine again, smiling to herself as she thought again of how handsome he looked in his formal coat and tie. They had barely spoken all night, both of them being swept up by the people and fun of the ball. Only once had they seen each other, just as they had arrived, and he had kissed her hand in a very silly but formal way before sneaking a hand around to pinch her rear.

Elizabeth's cheeks flushed just thinking about it. They had gotten closer in the previous weeks, a lot closer, and she hid her smile behind her glass.

First, it had started as a kiss, just a little peck here or there, in the morning or night. The pecks on the cheek moved to the corner of the mouth, then the lower lip, until finally one night Meliodas had pressed his mouth over hers, and neither pulled away for a long, long moment. It had been absolutely thrilling, making Elizabeth's heart skip as she waited, eyes closed and breath held. But he did not try it again for days.

The second kiss was much better, and it had surprised Elizabeth how easy it was to get lost. They were alone in the bar, everyone else somewhere or another, and they had been laughing about something unimportant when his mouth was on hers again, but this time, this time he did not pull away. She was much more prepared, and so pressed back against him, and her heart flipped in her chest when she felt the brush of his tongue on her lips. Unsure of what to do, she had opened her mouth slightly, and his lips had moved over hers. Then it was several glorious minutes of his lips stroking hers, his tongue slipping in her mouth, his hands surprisingly chaste on her arms.

She was pleased as the experiments continued, and nearly each night went they went to bed, Meliodas would kiss her before they went to sleep. She was eager to learn, to please him, and each night grew bolder as she learned what felt right, and discovered what made him make that exquisite sound in his throat that sent shivers down her spine. Elizabeth wanted more, though, and could tell he did too, even though she could also sense he was holding himself back from going any further. And secretly, Elizabeth was glad for it, partly because this was all so new she needed to go slowly, and partly because she was so nervous of doing something to make him stop.

Despite their kisses becoming more passionate, Meliodas would not touch her, and as the days went on Elizabeth started to want more. Her favorite times were when his hands would weave through her hair, stroking her gently. Sometimes he would brush his fingers on her neck, or down her arms, or gently hold her hips. Once, his hands had slipped up her waist. She had gasped with the movement, and to her disappointment his hands had stilled before he moved away.

Finally, one night she had decided to press for more. She had slipped her hand into his hair, running her fingers through it just as she liked herself, and as his hands settled on her waist, she moved. Before either of them could stop things she had pressed him back, her mouth sealed on his, and climbed partway into his lap. Elizabeth had opened her eyes briefly to gauge his reaction, and his eyes were opened in surprise as he kissed her back. She had laughed then, her arms going tight around his neck, and pressed her body tightly against his. She rocked against him as his hands moved to her back, and he urged her closer, their mouths moving against each other with a slow, unhurried passion.

After that, both of them had begun to grow bolder. Most nights were still the stolen kisses, but now his hands would roam her body, caressing her hips and thighs and brushing over her breasts. She, too, would touch him, gliding her hands over his chest, down his back, sliding along his arms and shoulders and neck. Once, he had pulled her onto his lap, and used both hands to cup her breasts. She had shuddered as he squeezed her gently, and sighed when his mouth had moved down her neck, little shivers of pleasure shooting through her body.

His hands were always over her clothes, and neither had ever tried to undress the other. Elizabeth knew that they eventually would, and the idea was embarrassing and enticing at the same time. She wondered if he knew how mixed she felt about the idea, and burned with curiosity if he did too, and what it would be like, how he would look at her, what he would feel like under her hands as they moved skin to skin. The temptation burned inside of her, and one night she had lost herself again, kissing him hard until they were both breathless. She writhed under him, squirming as she dug her fingers into his shoulders, and Meliodas had pulled back a bit, whispering her name in surprise.

Embarrassed, Elizabeth had blushed, closing her eyes as she tried to wrestle control back over her breathing. But then he had kissed her neck, moving to her shoulder, and shifted his body until he was settled between her legs. The new position made her gasp; he teased her mouth with his, and began to move.

The friction was so incredible, she could barely believe it was happening, and even the next day could not find a word to describe it. He was all around her, his mouth and hands everywhere, and he slowly rocked his body against her. There was a delicious hardness now pressed against her, rubbing between her legs, and her body had begun to pulse as she moved to match him. Her skin felt like fire and she could hardly take a breath around his mouth, and she felt an incredible tightness building inside her as his hand snaked down her thigh and under her gown.

Just his fingertips slipped over her skin, but they had burned into her as they moved over her hip, glancing along her stomach. She had pulled her thighs back, pressing her legs against his hips, and he had groaned into her mouth. Meliodas was grinding against her hard, his movements changing from a leisurely rocking to a more intense, rhythmic thrust.

Then her body had positively exploded, and a little scream escaped her as she felt her mind crash into and over and around an intense pleasure. Meliodas had groaned again, pressing his forehead into her neck, not stopping his movements until she was shaking and sweating and whimpering under him. Elizabeth kept her eyes squeezed tightly shut, focusing on breathing in and out, feeling his fingers contract and release against her back, his breath hot as he panted against her collarbone. She had no idea what to say, what to do, what to think, but he had kissed her again, one of the simple, chaste kisses they had begun with, and she sighed in relief. It was completely overwhelming, and she had never imagined that he could make her feel so good; it was almost frightening how intense it was, and how much she wanted him again.

An unspoken agreement kept them from any further experimentation since, and they both had slipped back into the slow pace from the start of this little love affair. Elizabeth was so thankful to have this break, to go back to more familiar territory after that encounter that had both thrilled and terrified her, finding them both completely mystifying. But when her curiosity had gotten the better of her, Elizabeth had sought out the one person she thought would be honest with her, and had asked Veronica for advice.

Veronica had laughed as she described her experiences, which Elizabeth had expected, but then she sobered and answered all of her questions. Veronica had even shared a particular book with her that contained several detailed passages that raised as many questions as it had answered, and even came with a few illustrations that made Elizabeth flush with heat. It was exactly what she had wanted to know: how to make Meliodas feel just the way she had.

It was one of those illustrations that had allowed Elizabeth to form her plan.

Howzer moved away from Meliodas, and Elizabeth murmured an excuse as she quickly swallowed the last of the wine in her glass. She walked towards him slowly, trying to look as graceful as she could despite the two pungent glasses of wine that swirled through her veins. Meliodas saw her coming and smiled, one eyebrow raising slightly as she took a tiny misstep and stumbled.

"Everything okay?" he said with a laugh, and Elizabeth nodded. They looked at each other for a long moment, neither speaking, until finally Elizabeth said, "Will you come with me? I have something to show you."

Meliodas smiled at her, curiosity gleaming in his eyes, and she took his hand and pulled him from the ballroom. The hallways were filled with people, but she expertly led him through the castle that had been her home since her childhood, until they turned one corner, then another, and found themselves completely alone.

"Where are we going?" he asked with another laugh, and Elizabeth tried a door. She pulled him inside, and now they were in a tiny sitting room, bright moonlight streaming in through the window.

"What is this?" he asked, looking around.

Elizabeth looked around too. "I think it's… A storage room?"

His hand went around her hip and pressed on her firmly. "And why did you bring me here?"

Elizabeth turned and looked at him, uncertainty now flashing up her neck and against her temples. But then he smiled at her, tilting his head up expectantly, and she kissed him.

The wine made her feel as though she was moving in slow motion, but her mind was clear and sharp as she felt his tongue move against hers. She pressed him back, against the wall, and Meliodas laughed again, his teeth catching her bottom lip. "Is this all you wanted?" he breathed.

"No," she whispered, and her hands moved downwards. She cupped her palm between his legs, and his eyes flew open, pulling his mouth away to say in surprise, "Elizabeth!"

Instead of answering, she pressed her mouth on his neck, nipping him the way he liked to do to her. His hands were strong and firm on her arms, and he gave her a slight push. "I don't think you-"

She cut him off as she squeezed her hand gently, catching his earlobe in her mouth at the same time. His gasp sent a thrill through her, and she giggled in nervous excitement as she felt his body stir in her hand. It was so surprising, she practically yelped, so to cover her excitement, Elizabeth moved her mouth back to his, kissing him slowly, even as she began to move her hand up and down, stroking him through the fabric, becoming more sure with each movement.

She felt him settle back against the wall, his hands still on her arms, but allowing her to take the lead. Elizabeth experimented with the pressure of her palm, the way her fingers would slide up and down, until she could feel without a doubt the full length of him in her hand. She was amazed at how easy it was to get him to jump, to make some kind of noise. She could not remember another time when Meliodas was so discomposed. But it was when she moved to put her hand inside the waistband of his trousers that his hand finally gripped her wrist to stop her. "Elizabeth, don't-"

"Shh," she said, brushing her lips on his. His grip loosened and she pushed her hand inside, both of them gasping as she wrapped her hand around him. Slowly she slid her fingers up, trailing along the length, trying to memorize every inch of his skin. Meliodas shuddered, making her grin against his mouth. "You don't know what you are doing to me," he moaned, letting her wrist go as she brushed her hand against him.

Yes I do, she thought, pushing the fabric down with both hands. His erection now freed, Elizabeth glanced down, still curious and surprised despite all the pictures she had studied in the book. Using both hands, she stroked him slowly, amazed at how smooth the skin was, and how heavy it was in her palm. It was nothing like she expected, and as she rubbed the pad of her thumb over the tip, he jolted and gave a low groan.

"Elizabeth," he hissed, but she ignored him and rubbed her thumb again and again, squeezing her other fingers slightly, and she stifled a giggle as he sucked in a breath. Usually it was she who was unsure, and it was fascinating to watch him react so strongly to her inexperienced hand. She loved how ruffled he was by her touch, and it made her even more brazen with her movements.

After another minute of stroking him slowly, she moved her eyes back to his. They were closed as he breathed steadily, and she felt a sudden flash of pride at his flushed skin, the way his face and arms and hands were tensed. She bit her lip, hesitating just for a second, and then sank down to her knees.

She gripped him, holding him steady, and suddenly felt unsure of what to do. Tentatively she kissed him, and when that made him yelp in surprise, she did it again, and then again.

"Ohhhh…" he groaned as Elizabeth placed her lips around him. The wine had made her bold, and the burning curiosity of what would happen, of what he would do, made the initial timidity melt away. Her stuttered name on his lips drove her to continue to kiss him. She experimented with her tongue, delighted to hear him make that rousing noise again; then she tried moving her mouth around him, and nearly jumped at his sharp intake of breath.

Having this little bit of power over Meliodas was intoxicating. Up until now, she had always followed his lead, whether it was as they travelled through Lioness, or facing a danger together, to even their experimentation over the past weeks. To be able to make him shudder like this was almost maddening. She began to suck on him lightly, exploring the feel of him in her mouth, trying to discover exactly how he liked this. The taste of him was arousing, unlike anything she could describe, and as he jerked against her tongue, the power and the anticipation and the pure maleness of him sparked a flame of desire deep inside of her.

Elizabeth felt her passion kindling between her legs, and she gave a soft moan as he pressed delicately inside of her mouth. Fascinated, she opened her mouth to give him room, and Meliodas let out a deep groan as he slid inside. Her hands gripped his hips as he pressed momentarily against the back of her throat, and then he slid back with an enticing sigh.

Eager for more, Elizabeth moved her mouth on her own, and when she felt his hand curling in her hair, she knew she had done the right thing. The sounds he made electrified her, the way his hips moved slightly with her mouth gripped her with excitement. When she dared to look up at his face, he was staring back down at her with a look of heady, dark desire she had never seen before. She shuddered and gave her own moan before closing her eyes and focusing back on him.

Elizabeth instinctively pressed her thighs together, the ache between them growing with the steady rhythm of Meliodas sliding in and out of her mouth. She imagined what it would be like if he touched her there, pushed his body in and out there just like he was with her mouth. She moaned at the idea, her hands sliding down from his hips over the front of his thighs. For a while she pictured it in her mind: her body naked and flushed under his, his hands on her legs, and then the hard length of him rubbing deliciously against the throbbing pulse inside of her. She nearly forgot where she was, what she was doing, so consumed by the fantasy, until Meliodas pulled away.

Gasping in surprise, Elizabeth's eyes flew open as she looked up at him. She was afraid she had done something wrong, but his face was still twisted in pleasure, the hand in her hair still grasping her even as he tugged her backwards. His other hand gripped his length, and Elizabeth watched with fascination as he moved his hand quickly up and down with fast, jerky movements. He moaned her name and she sucked in a deep breath, realizing that he was close to that explosion that he had given her days ago. She could do nothing but watch the hypnotizing movement of his hand, the way the head seemed to glisten in the moonlit room.

She wanted contact with him again, wanting to be a part of this, and she tilted forward, wincing slightly as his hand tightened in her hair. Elizabeth pressed her mouth against his hip, then traced her tongue across the dip where it met his thigh. Meliodas was practically panting now, the moving hand brushing against her cheek, and she slipped her mouth down further, pressing the flat part of her tongue underneath the root of his shaft.

Suddenly he cried out, and emboldened, her tongue darted out again and again, lapping against the flesh that hung below, and Meliodas bucked his hips outward. Elizabeth felt something wet against her neck, and she pulled backwards, startled. She watched as he found his release, and with a shuddering heart, marveled at the look of bliss on his face, the way his body rolled, the tremble in his limbs. Elizabeth's chest heaved, her heart pounding, and she reached a hand up to cover it, feeling it thudding inside her.

She sighed and smiled as he came down from his ecstasy, his hands slowly loosening their grip on her and on himself. He took several deep breaths to steady himself before looking down at her. They locked eyes and she grinned, beyond thrilled that she had done this, had made him feel as incredible as he had made her. Heat flashed through her entire body, and then he was hauling her up by her arms, pressing her back against the wall, kissing her with a fierceness he had never used before. His hands went around her, pulling her waist against him, her throbbing center grinding deliciously against his hip.

When she was completely breathless, he pulled away. With a slight frown he said, "I'm so sorry," and quickly pulled off his tie. He used it to wipe the wetness from her collarbone, and she noted the little shiver that went through him as he did so. He stuffed the tie into his back pocket and then snaked his hand back around her, pulling her against him.

"You didn't have to do that," he moaned as he scraped his teeth on her lips.

"I wanted to," she whispered back, his mouth on hers making her mind spin. He kissed her hard, bruising her lips, which throbbed when he finally moved to her jaw. She shook in his arms, wanting him to keep going, but she knew if she did not stop this soon, they might not ever stop again. His hands were roaming now, over her hips and around the curve of her backside, and she said against his cheek, "We should get back."

"Noooo," he groaned, sliding his tongue on her neck, making her tremble.

Elizabeth laughed. "We'll be missed."

He pulled back and looked at her with an unusual seriousness. "I want you," he said, and his words sent a shiver down her spine. "Will you stay with me tonight?"

Instantly she flushed, the heat searing up her neck and her face, and she felt her legs going a bit weak. There was no doubt in the way he was looking at her, the way his eyes burned with desire, the way his fingers dug into her body, what his words meant.

Elizabeth nodded. He smiled and stepped back, pulling her against him before opening the door. He kept a hand on her the rest of the night, not letting her go until they finally went back to her room in the castle.


	3. Hidden Paso Doble

"That man has been looking at you," Elizabeth said to Diane quietly.

"Where?" she squealed in delight, looking around the room. Elizabeth laughed and nodded in the direction of the balcony windows, and both Diane and Margaret followed with their eyes to where a young man with a pompadour stood. "He's over there. You should go and talk to him."

Diane sighed. "No, I don't think so. Once he finds out I'm not this size he probably won't like me anyway." Diane screwed her nose up. "Besides," she said, "his hair looks funny."

Margaret covered her mouth with her hand, stifling a giggle before it could escape, as Elizabeth and Diane laughed together. She was the princess everyone admired: charming, poised, polite, graceful. Everyone complimented her and sometimes clamored for her attention, knowing she would someday be queen. Margaret could handle everything, from acting as a mediator between feuding nations or helping settle a dispute among the household maids.

But this? Simple, silly conversation among girls… friendship, even? This was something still new to Margaret, and made her completely self-conscious. Diane and Elizabeth had been absolutely lovely, easily including her in their gossip, but Margaret still felt stiff around them. Both of her sisters had encouraged her (and in Veronica's case, berated her even) to _lighten up_ and to _have some fun_. But how could she, when she could not remember how?

As the girls chatted her eyes wandered over to Gilthunder, who was speaking to a young noblewoman. He had a small smile on his face as they made easy conversation, and although she was very beautiful, Margaret did not feel even a bit of jealousy. He loved her absolutely, she knew; they had been through too much in their shared past to ever be apart again. And in recent weeks, their relationship had developed from coy and teasing conversation to chaste kissing. Then, one night Gilthunder had worked up the nerve to ask for more, and she had breathlessly agreed; since then, they had shared nearly every night together, learning about each other all over again.

No, she was not jealous; but she could not help the twinge of anxiousness as she watched Gilthunder say something to make the girl laugh. Her eyes sparkled as she placed a hand on his arm, her light and easy laugh drifting over to where she stood, and Margaret wished that she could be that free with her emotions; to be spontaneous and fun and flirtatious with Gil.

Elizabeth suddenly excused herself, and Margaret watched her go towards Meliodas and lean down to whisper in his ear as Diane continued her assessment of Lioness' nobility. When the couple quickly exited the room with smiles on both their faces, Margaret looked down into her glass of wine. She had had her suspicions about her youngest sister's relationship with the captain of the Seven Deadly Sins for several days now, and even though she did not disapprove necessarily, it still stung that even Elizabeth seemed to be having a more exciting and passionate time with the one she loved. Although they had shared many intimacies, Margaret still kept her heart tightly locked, anxious over letting Gilthunder completely in, unwilling to let herself feel the abandon she secretly longed for. Margaret suddenly wanted to give herself over to her feelings for him, to experience their passion purely on instinct.

"Excuse me," Margaret said, rudely interrupting Diane, but stalked forward without an apology. She walked towards Gilthunder, who looked up at her approach with the same small smile. Margaret nodded politely at the noblewoman and placed a hand on Gilthunder's arm. "May I speak with you please?" she said sweetly, and Gil excused himself politely from the now pouting woman and stepped away with the princess.

"Everything alright?" he murmured, his lips brushing against her hair as his hand pressed against the small of her back. Margaret nodded, a shiver running through her body at his touch, still new and thrilling.

"Yes," she breathed, pausing to look up at him. "It's just… I want…" She blushed a bit, unable to even figure out what to say, and he brushed his thumb over her cheek. Gilthunder gazed down at her, and Margaret tried to think. She wanted him, that was for certain; but if she said that, he would take her to bed and love her with the slow, tender passion they always shared. Margaret wanted something _different._

He frowned a bit, searching her face. Then the corner of his mouth went up, and he grabbed her hand, pulling her behind him and through the open doorway onto the balcony.

There were people everywhere, drinking, eating, talking, some dancing. Margaret gripped his hand tightly as they weaved through the groups, leading her to the side, where the balcony continued to wrap around the side of the castle. Away from the crowd, there were several couples in the more secluded spot, talking quietly or even becoming a bit amorous. Margaret felt her cheeks flush as she hurried to keep up with Gilthunder's long stride, and they turned where the balcony narrowly wrapped around the corner of the castle wall.

It was a little hidden spot, very dark as the wall blocked out the lights from the party. Then his arms were around her, pulling her hips against his, and his mouth crushed onto hers, kissing her with a bruising passion he had never used before. Gilthunder's kisses had always made her feel as though she were melting; this time, she felt as though she was on fire.

His tongue pushed into her mouth, and she opened to accommodate it as it slid and licked inside of her. She gripped his arms tightly as he bent her backwards. Gilthunder kept one hand hard against her waist while moving the other to tightly fist in her hair. She let out a soft moan and his tongue thrust aggressively into her mouth as he pushed her backwards against the smooth stone of the castle wall.

When she was completely, utterly breathless, he pulled back a bit and released her mouth, softly brushing his lips against hers even as he kept his grip tight. "Is that what you wanted?" he murmured against her lips, biting softly on the bottom one.

"Y-yes," she stuttered, shaking against him, wondering how he knew. His mouth was already moving, sucking the skin of her neck as he left open mouth kisses down the slope towards her shoulder. He pressed his hips forward, grinding slowly against her. "Is this what you want?" he asked with a gravel to his voice.

"Yes," she moaned, barely a whisper, and the hand on her waist sank lower until he had gripped one of her cheeks, squeezing hard and forcing her to rub her hip up and against him.

"Say it, Margaret," he said sharply, his mouth now circling her ear. "Tell me."

She gasped as his tongue dipped into her ear, then lapped around the shell. "I- I want-" It was hard to think with his mouth on this sensitive place, his teeth grazing her earlobe before pressing against where it connected to her neck.

"Tell me," he urged. His hand released her hair and slid down the side of her face, holding it steady as he bit into her tender skin.

"I want you!" she practically squealed. Her skin was on fire, his mouth making her core twist in anticipation. His body was pressed against hers, pinning her back, making it impossible to move. She squirmed anyway, not understanding herself what she wanted, just knowing she wanted _him_ to overwhelm her. She did not want gentle passion; she wanted to lose herself.

Gilthunder growled in appreciation, his mouth returning to hers. His hands now roamed over her body, and Margaret tried to arch against him. She felt the carefully constructed walls she always kept up start to crumble underneath him. "I've been wanting this," he said as he kissed her. "I want you like this." The kiss was hard, demanding, bruising in its intensity. It felt as though he were starved for her, starved for the taste of her mouth, and Margaret could only allow him to crush against her, her mind slowly being buried under the weight of it.

He released her suddenly, leaving her gasping and throbbing, and dropped to his knees. Margaret pressed her palms back, flat against the wall, as his hands slipped under the hem of her dress, sliding along her legs. They traveled up to her waist, and then there was tugging, as Gilthunder pulled and ripped the petticoats and fabric underneath her until her body was completely bare under the shell of her dress. He tossed the fabric away, then he pushed the dress up slowly, revealing her calves and her thighs inch by inch. She shivered in the night air.

Gilthunder pressed his face against her thigh, trailing kisses along her smooth skin. "I need you," he said, "right now."

The old Margaret roared back, and she turned her face towards where the wall curved. They were still only steps away from the rest of the party. "Someone- someone could see-"

He ignored her and grabbed one leg, pulling it over his shoulder, pressing with his body to open hers. She felt his tongue against her cleft, making her start, and then he was licking her. Her blood boiled, her cheeks and skin flaring, even as she braced herself against the cool stone wall. Over and over his tongue slid against her front, one hand pinning her against the wall by her hip, the other sliding possessively along the thigh wrapped over her shoulder, pressing it up and open to allow his mouth to travel the length of her slit.

Her body trembled, her heart pounding with the illicit pleasure he gave. His name a broken whisper on her lips, Margaret rocked her hips forward, pressing herself into his greedy mouth. Her pleasure was building rapidly, and she could feel the crest of her orgasm approaching fast, but just as she was moment from her peak, his tongue slid from the hood to dip inside her body. It pressed inside her slowly, shallowly, and she shook with the unanswered need that began to slowly recede.

When her breathing had slowed a fraction, his mouth was back, licking exactly where she needed it. Once again she bucked up against him, pressing for more, more, his tongue rubbing her deliciously. She groaned softly, finally nearing that place again, but again he slipped away to kiss her opening instead. His tongue was driving her mad, and she flexed her leg instinctively to urge him to continue.

" _Noooo…_ " she moaned, feeling more and more desperate as he repeated again and again, bringing her body close to its throbbing conclusion before retreating back to tease her core. She was drenched with her need, her body sweating and shaking, and Margaret thought she would go insane if he did it again.

Reaching down, she gripped his hair, pulling him hard by the roots back to where she needed him most. "Please," she gasped as his tongue flicked teasingly against her.

"Tell me what you want," he said against her, turning his face to nibble on her thigh.

But Margaret couldn't do it, couldn't say it out loud, and with a whimper she simply rocked her hips, pleading with him silently.

After a long moment he stood, and Margaret turned her face away in embarrassment. Why couldn't she just say the words? Why couldn't she just abandon herself? The prim and proper part of her, the dutiful princess and obedient daughter squeezed its fist around her heart, and she was terrified to look at Gilthunder and see the disappointment there.

She sighed when she felt his lips at her neck. His kisses shot like lightning down to her aching core, and she turned her mouth to his, groaning in surprise when she tasted herself on his mouth. His hands slid from her hips, up her sides, and he pressed against her leisurely, kissing her almost languidly. Margaret could only stand, held against the wall by his body, and tilt her mouth to accept the unhurried kiss he offered.

Finally he pulled away and looked directly into her eyes. "I'm going to make you lose yourself," he said, and the promise sent a shiver up her spine. He stepped back and pulled on one of her arms, turning her, until she faced the little railing on the edge of the balcony. He pressed her forward until her hands were forced to grip the metal to brace herself, and then his body was against her back, his hands sliding around her hips.

"Anyone could see us, you know," he whispered teasingly in her ear. Her hair was up in a perfect twist on her head, allowing him access to the sensitive skin of her hears and neck. He pressed a kiss above her shoulder and slid his hands upwards to her chest. Both hands squeezed her, scraping her through the fabric, and Margaret's grip tightened.

Gilthunder began to unhook the closures in the front, and she dropped her head back onto his shoulder. "Anyone could walk around here and find us here," he said again, just as the last hook was undone and he pulled the dress open. Now she was only in a thin material, and he easily slipped his hands inside, palming her breasts as one of her hands wrapped back around his hip, gripping him against her.

He chuckled in her ear, sending another bolt of desire through her, as he slowly caressed her breasts. Margaret began to feel the pulse again between her legs, and when his hands stopped to allow his thumbs to circle her hardening nipples, she pressed her behind back against him. He rocked his hips forward, pressing the unmistakable hardness of him against her, and they rolled their bodies together for several long moments, both panting with desire.

"Are you ready to say it now?" he asked, his hands getting rougher. He squeezed her over and over, rolling his palms over her skin, teasing her nipples before tracing his fingers along the undersides of her breasts. "Are you ready for me to be inside you?"

"Y-yes," she stammered as he pinched her again. One hand left her breast and traveled down her stomach, over her dress, stopping to palm her between the legs, right over the fabric. He rubbed her slowly, achingly, and Margaret opened her legs for him, arching her body to press into his hands.

"Then tell me," he said firmly. His mouth suctioned around her neck. Margaret turned her face, pressing it against his, panting against his chest as he worked her. The hand on her breast and the hand rubbing her core and his mouth on her made her mind numb, but his words sliced through all of that, and still, still, Margaret could not bring herself to do it.

"No?" he teased, causing her to flush again, and she squeezed her eyes shut as he pulled his hands away from her. She was so aroused by him, she thought she could faint from the anticipation, and she cursed herself for being wound so tight. Margaret told herself to let go, to give in, but deep down, there was still a voice that insisted she remain in control of her emotions. She must keep herself from feeling too much.

Gilthunder positioned her in front of him, pressing her hands to take the railing even as he pulled her hips back to angle towards him. He lifted the back of her dress, his hands sliding hungrily over her body, still bare from when he had torn away her underclothes. He moaned appreciatively and slid a hand between her legs, grazing her wet heat with his fingertips until she was arching her back, pressing her body open and up for him.

"Maybe if I show you how badly I want you," he said, and Margaret's head dropped down. She was dizzy from his caress, her body now just one throbbing ache for him. Several moments went by, and she shuddered as she thought of how she must look now, bent over clutching the railing, her body open and wet and hot for him, her most intimate places exposed to the night air for him to use as his own.

His hands gripped her hips, and she moaned in relief as she felt his length slide between her legs. But instead of pushing inside her dripping body, Gilthunder teased her, simply rubbing the length back and forth between her thighs. Margaret gripped the railing so hard her hands ached, tilting her hips so that with the next movement he would meet her opening. He was ready for her, however, and used her hips to rock her body back even further, so he could nudge the bundle of nerves under her hood with the head of him.

Margaret cried out, the momentary contact sending a shock of electricity through her, and then he withdrew, dragging his body against her. Her thighs and mound were soaked with her desire, and he groaned as he moved, "You are so very wet, Margaret." He started to thrust a bit, coating his body with her fluids, and she gasped as he came in contact with her for a split second again and again.

Her legs and arms shook. Her body practically wept as he slid easily against her lubricated skin. She needed him badly, _desperately_ , as close to her climax as she had been before. The memory of his mouth on her brought another round of shudders, just as his hands slid over her backside, pushing her cheeks apart.

She gasped in surprise, her eyes going wide, but he simply slid his length along her body, spreading the scorching wetness with his own. Again and again he moved, the head tracing the line of her from back to front, the hard heat of him brushing against every nerve in her body. Margaret found herself rocking herself, opening her thighs even more so he could slip just inside her folds. The tease was delicious, more powerful than she ever imagined it could be, and as much as she needed her end _now_ she also dreaded this feeling coming to a close.

"You like that, don't you?" he said, the dark tone making her core clench. He grabbed her arms and pulled her back against him, holding her tightly as he continued to slide back and forth between her thighs. "One day, I will take you there too," he whispered in her ear, nudging against her backside, before pushing the head back against her throbbing folds.

Margaret gave a breathy moan. Gilthunder pressed his cheek against hers, continuing the shallow movements as he said, "Look out at the city." She obeyed and opened her eyes, gazing out at the buildings lit up by the moonlight. "Someone could be watching you right now, Margaret. Someone is standing at their window, and can see the princess opened and wet and shaking."

The idea of it was dark, and dangerous, and so thrilling that Margaret could only whimper. His body slowly stilled against hers, and she struggled to take in deep, calming breaths. All of her nerves were heightened, and she could feel every one of his breaths on her neck, his fingers digging into her arms, the light breeze against her partially bare chest. She could feel the hardness of his chest against her back, the heat of his skin through her clothes, sense the scent of both of their arousals, powerful and electric between them. Margaret shifted her hips and a little noise escaped his throat. "Margaret," he said raggedly, "tell me what you want."

"I want you," she hissed through shaking breath. "I want you inside me. I want you to take me." The last bit came out as a whimper, and now that she finally admitted it, the words began to tumble from her lips as the last threads of her iron control crumbled into dust. "Please, Gil, please, I need you, I need to-"

She was cut off as he moved, pushing her against the wall and kissing her with a frenzied, heated passion. He groaned into her mouth as her arms circled around his shoulders, pulling him closer and closer as his hands hiked up her dress. One hand grabbed her leg, wrapping it around his hip, and he thrust into her hard, both of them crying out with the sudden fire of their bodies joining.

Gilthunder rocked with a steady rhythm, driving them both headfirst towards their finish. Margaret clutched him tightly, her mind whirling with the relief of his body grinding into hers and the knowledge that he took so much pleasure in her, in her body. He gasped her name, sliding in and out of her with long, hard thrusts, taking her mouth again and again. A powerful ecstasy filled her at being held this way, possessed this way by him, and her orgasm built in force, pounding through her body.

"Gilthunder? Are you back here?" A male voice reached them through their lust, and they both immediately stilled. The voice came closer, and Margaret seized in fear, squeezing his shoulder. "Don't move," he whispered in her ear, not withdrawing his body from hers. "Your dress covers everything."

He pushed closer to her, his length pressing deep inside her, so that he could turn his back and cover her open top. The stillness and power of him captivated her, and being filled so completely made her shake in anticipation. "Gil?"

"Yes," he bit out, his chest rumbling against her face as Margaret pressed her cheek against the taut muscle.

"There you are." Margaret bit her lip, realizing it was Griamore, and heat flashed through her skin as she tried to remain sill. "What are you doing?"

"Margaret and I were talking," he said evenly. To her horror, Gilthunder slowly moved his hips, dragging his length partway from her body and then sliding back inside. "What do you want?" She dug her nails into him, the tension from her body absolutely palpable. If he moved just one more time, she knew that she would go over the edge.

"The king was looking for you," Griamore answered. At the sound of her father's name, Margaret jumped a bit, her body so keyed up that should not help it. He squeezed her reassuringly and answered, "Tell him I'll be there in a minute."

Then, Gilthunder shifted against her, hitting a spot deep within her body, and she climaxed. She bit her lip hard to keep in the wail that threatened to erupt, and she clenched and spasmed around him, sending pulse after pulse through her body. Then she felt more than heard him grunt, and suddenly he was jerking, spilling thickly inside of her.

The bliss of it all, the rawness of their encounter, overwhelmed her, and the blood thundering in her ears drowned out the rest of their conversation. Griamore said something, then Gilthunder replied, and then there were footsteps as Griamore left. Then he was lifting her legs, pushing them open and wide, and he was thrusting again, grinding out the last of his orgasm inside of her, and she could only grip him weakly as the pleasure came to an exquisite peak.

Finally he stopped, nuzzling his face against her chest, both of them panting together. He withdrew from her with a wet pop that made him groan. Gently he released her legs, holding her up as she was weak from the bliss they shared, and he carefully pinned her dress closed and smoothed her skirt before planting a soft kiss on her lips. "I'm sorry about your petticoat," he whispered against her lips. "But I must admit, it's exciting to think about you naked under there, waiting and ready for me."

Margaret shivered and nodded, kissing him back. "Thank you," she whispered. "That was-"

She sighed as he cut her off with another deep kiss. "Oh, I'm not done with you yet," he chuckled, and she shivered against him.


End file.
